Lilac Tree
by akirakurosawa
Summary: Random words challenge. A trip down memory lane for Lord Malfoy caused by his son's unexpected proclamation revives old flame. Lemon. M rated. DMHG/SMRW
1. Chapter 1

**Random word challenge by my friend.**

**Words:**

**Comfort**

**Enchantment**

**Befitting**

**Meadow**

**Obscurity**

**Fame**

**Nihilism**

**Babyhood**

**Damn**

**Hymn**

**AN: I have a minor block, and I am halfway through new chapters for both Lion and Bear and The Patch, but in the meantime, this came up. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. **

**Slightly confusing, slightly OOC, but I kind of love it.**

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><p><span><em><strong>Lilac tree<strong>_

"Father, I know you will disagree, but I love her, and I honestly don't care what you think. I am going to marry her one day, and that is the end of it."

Draco Malfoy looked at his son, realising how much he had grown up. He failed to notice, but the Scorpius standing in front of him was a young man, and not a boy he thought him to be. His **babyhood** days were long gone, and Draco had to come to peace with that.

He turned around to face the window in the library of the Malfoy Manor, that still looked more **befitting** for a king, and not a mere Lord, like he now was, and like his son would be sometime in the future. After his Father's death, he inherited the title, the lands, and the vast fortune in Gringots Bank. He hoped that he didn't inherit the streak of madness that ran in the family... although more within the Blacks than the Malfoys.

He almost chuckled at his own joke, but then decided against it. Draco scanned the garden, seeing his wife, the Mistress of Malfoy Manor walking in the garden with Pansy Zabini, nee Parkinson and her sister, Daphne Greengrass. She was showing them the wonderful work she did tending to the flowers. Indeed, Astoria took care of every part of the garden herself, except the lilac tree. That was Draco's, and he never let her touch it.

The lilac tree growing under the window moved in accordance with the wind, and it transported him into a long-gone memory that he sought occasionally over the years, every time he wanted to feel alive again.

_The woods were dark and eerie when she approached him – he could hear her from afar. Draco stayed silent, hoping that she would just leave, without saying anything to him._

"_You were very brave tonight Malfoy."_

_Her voice was calm and quiet, like a whisper of a lover. He was exhausted with everything that happened tonight, and now she was hear and Draco didn't know how long his walls would endure before they crumbled._

_He watched his Godfather die tonight. He watched his _Father_ die tonight. He watched his Mothers eyes glaze over and look at him with that terrible, expressionless look that told him her mind cannot cope with present events and has decided to turn itself off. It only lasted a second, but he knew there was more to come._

_He watched the world crumble under his feet, unable to prevent it or stop it. He saw the dead in the Great Hall, the wounded everywhere, and he ran. After turning on his Father and watching him die with a look of contempt and disgust on his face, he felt like he was going to explode, so he ran._

_He ran through Hogwarts halls, through the yard and the ruins of the world. He ran ahead, not looking, not thinking, concentrating on breathing and the movement of his feet. He ran until he saw the woods, and then he ran some more, until he stumbled upon the clearing and fell on the ground, hyperventilating. It took him quite some time to calm down, and by then, he felt drained. The wind blew a haunting melody above him, kicking and screaming at the lilac tree half destroyed by the events of the long night behind them._

_That was when she found him, cutting her way through the now empty woods. This far the voices from the castle couldn't be heard. The only sound was wind howling and leaves screaming. _

_And now, barely heard whispers of one Hermione Granger._

"_I mean it, you know. You aren't bad Malfoy. You just proved it to the world, and confirmed what I've believed all these years."_

_Her face was muddy, her clothes torn and he could see specks of blood all over it. She had a cut on her cheek, her hair was a tangled mess even more than usual, but nevertheless she glowed with light that came from the inside. She looked like Andraste, the warrior-queen witch his mother used to tell him about when he was little._

"_You don't believe what you're saying Granger. You're just bloody happy that it's over, and that Scarhead has finally saved the world," he heard himself say. _

"_That's not true and you know it. We get a second chance now Malfoy. I am happy that it's over but-" she stopped suddenly, biting her lip and looking at him warily as he stopped his cold grey stare on her._

_Draco opened his mouth, and then closed it again. What could he say to her? Before he answered his own question, words were pouring out of his mouth in an avalanche and he was unable to stop them._

"_Guess what Granger, it's not over for me! My Father was killed tonight, and even though he was a __**damn**__ sociopath, he was my Father! My Mother is losing her mind slowly, I can see it. I know the signs, I've seen it in my Aunt and my Grandmother already!"_

_He could barely breathe, the darkness inside suffocating him as it tumbled out of him, tainting the same world in which that lovely creature in front of him breathed. Draco was appalled with himself for a million of reasons, but he just couldn't stop himself._

"_I grew up convinced that I am better than most because of my heritage and my blood, and then had all my beliefs shattered slowly over the years, without having time to adjust to it! I fought for the wrong side, and I've known it all along, but still, I didn't have a choice! Look!"_

_He tore his sleeve and pushed his arm forwards her, surprising her with sudden movement._

"_I am a Death Eater, Hermione! I am a Death Eater, and nothing you say will ever change that! When people look at me or my family, all they will see is a former Death Eater with a history of promoting Pure-blood supremacy! And I, I was a coward who did everything he was told to do, and those horrible things that I did will haunt me in my dreams for the rest of my life. So no, there is no second chance for me. I've gambled away every single thing that I had that kept me sane, and I can't go back."_

_The beautiful witch in front of him was silent, frozen in her spot. The trees around the __**meadow**__ cast a shadow over them, and the moonlight was the only source of light. She found him here after the Final Battle, and now she was standing there, listening to his rambling, instead of celebrating with her friends._

_He needed to get his out, and it didn't matter to him who it was that heard, he just needed to say it in order for it to become real, in order to face it once and for all. However, a part of him wanted it to be her, wanted _her_ to be the one to listen and to understand._

"_And even though the War is over, I still have no choice. My father is dead. I am the heir to Malfoy fortune, and every bloody thing that comes with it. I will marry someone to make my Mother happy, I will have a Pure-blood heir, and I will publically sing the __**hymn**__ of heroicness all the while feeling like a proper and utter failure inside. And that is the harsh reality of life. There are no happy endings Hermione, there is just nothing. __**Nihilism**__ and sad life stories of sad people. And you are a fool to think otherwise."_

_It was like someone drained the life right out of him at that moment, so he closed his eyes in attempt to escape the harsh reality of what he'd just confessed. He stopped talking and let his arm fall down, the Dark Mark taunting him with its presence that could never be erased._

_He smelled her before he could feel her, blood and fire, sweat and despair, and a faint smell of lilacs that enveloped him and brought him __**comfort**__. She didn't say a word; she just touched his arm gently, and he opened his eyelids to look him in the eyes._

"_You called me Hermione," she whispered._

"_I wanted to call you that for a long time."_

_There were no secrets anymore – he stood bare in front of her, the little left of his soul thrown onto the ground, there for her to crush it. She smiled the faintest smile as she noticed the apprehension and fear in his eyes, for the first time ever. So she gave him something back._

"_I honestly believe in the cause I fought for. And I have my path carved in blood in front of me. I am going to marry Ronald Weasley, because that is how it's supposed to be. I am going to return to school, and after that, I will be able to choose any job that I want, in the Ministry or otherwise. I will probably be declared a War Hero or something utterly ridiculous like that, and I will spend my life being good, fighting for good, and promoting everything good. The __**fame**__ will follow me everywhere, my every step scrutinized and dissected until none of it remains unknown."_

_Her smell was intoxicating to him, and he let her step so close that he could feel her breath on his face. Everything in him screamed for her, or at her, he didn't know, but he was firmly stuck in his place._

"_I will weep in silence for my parents, murdered in Australia, and never tell anybody about them. They died without knowing they had a daughter, because I Obliviated them. I will be a good wife to Ron, be there to support him as he copes with the death of his brother, and be a wonderful Mother to his children."_

_Tears were flowing from her eyes freely, leaving trails on her dust stained face. Draco wanted to comfort her, but he just didn't learn how._

"_A part of my heart died in this war, along with my parents and everybody else who suffered. Another part will die when I come to peace with my duties as Hermione Granger, future Weasley, the War Heroine. A part will be there for my children, to love them and protect them. But there is this one part-"_

_She stopped suddenly, her Lion courage drained. Draco could feel she wanted to say something, so he touched her fingers with his own. She just looked down, and let him take her hand in his and hold tight onto her. She was the only thing moving in this world that stood still, and the only thing he could concentrate on amidst the Chaos. She sighed and looked him in the eyes._

"_There is this one part that isn't mine for a long time. That part went to a young boy who smiled at me on the train to Hogwarts and bought me a Chocolate Frog, because I didn't know what to get. A boy who saw how sad I was to be sitting alone on the train, and sat and talked to me. A boy who asked what was my favourite flower, and then conjured one for me so that I wouldn't feel sad anymore." _

_She smiled through her tears, and her chocolate eyes looked at him like he was the world. Breath caught in his throat as he recalled that day, and he held her hand just a bit tighter, needing proof that she was real and not just a fragment of his less than lucid mind._

"_That part went to a boy who broke my heart when he realized I was a Muggle-born and refused to be my friend, or even talk to me without calling me a Mudblood. A boy who was mean to me all the time, a boy who hexed me and taunted me every chance he got. A boy I punched in the face because I wanted him to feel the same pain I was feeling in my heart. A boy who warned my friends to hide me when the Death Eaters attacked Muggles at the Quidditch World Cup. A boy who helped me get my teeth fixed and put a smile on my face."_

_He smiled a little at that, and she finally grasped his hand back._

"_A part of my heart will always be with a boy who knocked a statue over to alert the Army that his Inquisition Squad is near. A boy who turned his head and let me sneak away unharmed from the Room of Requirement when he was supposed to capture me. A boy who couldn't kill Albus Dumbledore, one of few persons who believed in him. A boy who lied to his own deranged aunt about my identity to protect me. A boy who brought me water and bread and my favorite flower with some of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder inside when I was captured and tortured in his house."_

_He could feel heat on his cheeks, and realized he was crying and blushing at the same time. Draco had no idea that she noticed all those things throughout the years, because nobody noticed, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. She lifted her hand and cautiously touched his cheek, wiping the tears away gently._

"_A part of my heart will always stay with the brave young man that protected himself and his family the only way he could, and stood watchful through the years over a Muggle-born girl he was taught to detest, making sure she didn't get in trouble that much."_

_Hermione Granger then let go of his hand, and put her hands on his cheeks. She looked at him with a happy smile, untainted by death and mayhem that surrounded them._

"_A part of my heart will always stay with you Draco, because I've given it away seven years ago in that train compartment willingly, and I am never taking it back."_

_Hermione's eyes twinkled in the moonlight and Draco could see the need and urgency he felt reflected in her gaze. They both moved forward at the same time, and their lips met halfway._

_The world faded into __**obscurity**__ at that moment, and there was only her. He closed his eyes and inhaled her scent, as his lips moved against hers in sinfully slow movements. She tasted like heaven and hell at the same time, and he wrapped his arms around her and held her to him, refusing to let the perfection that was Hermione Granger escape his arms._

_She opened her mouth and deepened the kiss, allowing him the sweet intoxication that was her scent. The kiss was __**enchantment**__ and ecstasy, and Draco couldn't get enough. He knew he had this one night with her, and after that they would both go their separate ways. That meant he needed to make this a night she would never forget._

_Hermione obviously thought along the same lines, because she pulled out her wand, and without breaking the kiss, she conjured a soft blanket for them to lie on. _

_Draco held her in his arms carefully, afraid that she would disappear like an illusion. Her hands were in his hair, and he caressed her sides as he gently lay her down. He pulled away from her and she whimpered at the loss of his touch._

"_Hermione, I just want you to know that, well, what's left of my torn soul is yours, and always will be. You are the only thing that makes me feel alive and feeling like I have a heart."_

_She looked so beautiful in the moonlight that his heart hurt. Hermione smiled a sad smile, and wound her fingers into blond hair of the man she could never have._

"_I am yours Draco."_

_She pulled him down for another kiss, and the weight of him felt wonderful on top of her. He tasted like sadness and love and despair, and she decided to give him everything. It was her last chance to show him, even if she couldn't say it._

_Draco shivered as he felt Hermione tug on his robes. He broke the kiss and tangled himself out of his clothes, leaving him shirtless. She lay beneath him, and in her eyes he could see trust and something else that he dared not think about._

_His hands trembled as he slowly pulled her jacket of her, and then reached to the hem of her shirt. Hermione gave him a decisive nod and raised her arms above her head, and his knuckles grazed her soft skin as he pulled the shirt off of her._

"_Merlin you are beautiful," he whispered as he caressed her skin. She shivered beneath him and then enveloped him in a hug suddenly. Their bare skin touched and he felt a blessed rhapsody of feelings that intoxicated him._

"_So are you, my Draco," she whispered, kissing his neck. "Inside and out."_

_He pulled her into another kiss, savouring her taste and smell. He knew this was wrong on so many levels, but he didn't care. It felt like the only right thing in his life of lefts._

_Their kiss became more desperate as she nibbled on his bottom lip, moaning quietly. It brought him immense pleasure, hearing her delight. Her hands were all over him, touching him, memorizing every inch of his skin to remember for the future._

_Draco wound his fingers into her hair, feeling only bliss. He dreamed of doing this so many times that when he finally did it, it felt even better than he imagined. He laughed softly, and she stopped kissing him, feeling puzzled._

"_I dreamt of doing this so many times Hermione," he told her. Her eyes softened, savouring the wonderful sound of her name coming of those perfect lips. He looked uncertain for a moment, like he was battling with himself. Then, his stormy eyes met her, and she never felt as good as in that moment again when she heard him say it._

"_I need you Hermione."_

_For a moment time stopped, and nothing existed except two broken people who needed each other. Then Hermione decided that she needed to do something._

_She attacked him with another kiss as her hand fumbled with his pants. He unclasped her bra, and she could hear him gasp as he felt her breasts on his skin._

"_You're perfect Hermione," he whispered as he touched her nipples softly. She writhed under him as goose-bumps erupted all over her skin from his gentle touch._

"_I need you Draco, please..."_

_He nodded and pulled away from her, losing his pants in the process. She bit her lips as she saw how much he wanted her, his dark boxers stretching. Draco went for her pants' button, but then stopped himself._

"_Have you-" words wouldn't leave his mouth, so he cleared his throat. "Have you ever done this before?"_

_He searched her chocolate eyes for truth, and she shook her head. Expressions of shock and fear passed his aristocratic face._

"_Hermione, I... I'm not worthy... You..." He seemed at a loss from words, so Hermione pushed herself up so she was now kneeling in front of him. She looked the beautiful, troubled man in front of her, and decided that he may not understand if she didn't say it outright._

"_Draco, I need you. I trust you. And I want to give you myself, as I cannot give you anything else. I need you. Please."_

_She stood up, towering over him, light dancing on her skin. He watched as she removed her sneakers and her jeans, leaving one single barrier between herself and him._

_Hermione lowered herself back on the blanket, using his shoulders for support. Her touch awoke him, and he grabbed her in a passionate embrace, lowering her so he was lying on top of her. She sighed happily as their chests touched, kissing him everywhere she could._

"_Hermione, I..." Draco hesitated, as his hand found his way to her knickers. She pushed her hips up, meeting his eyes._

"_Please Draco, please," her voice was a throaty moan, and he tore her knickers forcefully and moaned as her heat engulfed him._

_Hermione felt like she was in heaven. Draco pushed two fingers inside of her as his thumb searched her fold, wanting to give her pleasure. He knew he hit the right spot when she cried out in delight and then bit her lip to stop from screaming aloud._

_He continued his ministrations as he got rid of his boxers. Hermione writhed under him, her breasts high in the air, her nipples tense as she mewled incoherently. Just as she was about to cross that bridge and stumble into ecstasy, he stopped and lowered himself on her._

"_I want you inside of me Draco."_

_Her eyes were pools of bronze, her pupils dilated with her desire for him. Draco kissed her slowly, and positioned himself at her entrance. She put her arms around his neck, and with a final kiss she nodded._

_He pushed inside and her back arched, her eyes teary because of sudden pain. Draco held the only witch he ever loved in his arms and murmured apologies for hurting her. She felt so good, so tight and warm, but he resisted pushing further because of her discomfort._

_He peppered light kisses all over her face and neck, and caressed every inch of her skin that he could. He could feel himself pulsing, overwhelmed with the feeling of her, soft, real, if only for a moment in time. A stolen moment was all he got, and he relished in her, and the lilac tree humming in the wind, and..._

"Father?"

A voice brought him back to present, cutting off the pleasure and bringing immediate pain. Draco learned how to control the pain over the years, but at times like these it took him by surprise and gnawed at his defenses and walls he built over the years.

Descartes wrote that the senses deceive us from time to time, and it is never prudent to trust those who have deceived us before. Draco Malfoy lived by that principle, even though his vast knowledge of Muggle philosophy wasn't a publicly known fact.

Would his son be able to get the happy ending he himself was so brutally denied? If that girl was in any way like her Mother, Draco knew that Scorpius may perhaps get a chance at experiencing happiness that he only got a taste of that night in the woods.

With a final look at the tree in the garden, he turned back to his son and composed himself as best as he could.

"Well, I do expect you to invite Miss Rose Weasley over for dinner... along with her parents. If you plan to marry her some day, we better start to mend the less than friendly relationships from the past."

Smiling slightly at his son's incredulous look, Draco exited the room and went towards the gardens, unwilling to admit to himself that he was indeed very pleased, and even more excited with the concept of seeing Hermione Granger once again.

He just had to make sure there was a lilac flower arrangement on the table for dinner.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: This one is for cheshyregrin - thank you so much for being so supportive, and thanks for the words. It has been a little difficult writing this because Hermione is such a complex character, but I did my best and I hope you like it. By the outcome of this chapter, I believe this would not be a two-shot. Amm... I guess that Draco and Hermione have something else to tell me. I guess I'll be needing 10 more words... :)**

**Thanks to everybody who followed and favorited this story - you guys are awesome! **

**Words:**

**Anticipation**

**Shock**

**Frustration**

**Heartache**

**Happiness**

**Audacity**

**Enigma**

**Intentional**

**Simplicity**

**Longing**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters- I do wish I had Lord Malfoy for myself, though.**

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><p>Hermione Weasley lowered her head into her hands and shook it gently, feeling a migraine coming up.<p>

Her beautiful daughter Rose was on one side of the kitchen, her fiery hair matched only by the fire in her eyes. They were dangerously tiny, slits that held back all the fury and irritation she was feeling. Hermione knew her daughter, and knew that the worst was yet to come.

On the other side, her husband of twenty-and-then-some years was pulling at his hair, a trait he adopted after the War. It made a certain impact on the state of his hair – throughout the years, the amount of it dwindled and the ginger in it started to turn to grey.

»I will not, under any circumstance, allow you to continue seeing that... that...that ferret's son!" Ronald Weasley shouted at his daughter, his face contorted with ire and betrayal.

"You cannot tell me what to do father! I will be 17 in a couple of months, and there is nothing you can do about it!" Rose yelled back, her blue eyes sparkling with **frustration**, her face contorting in a mask of rage.

Hermione decided it was enough.

As her daughter opened her mouth to yell another obscenity, she stood up from the table, and with a wave of her wine-wood wand everything came to a complete halt. Rose and Ron stood frozen in a moment of time, their eyes the only things moving. Two pairs of baby-blues simultaneously sought Hermione, confused and irate at the same time.

"Enough," she said slowly. "I have had enough of this. It is getting late, and I cannot think straight from all the yelling and cursing you did today. I do not believe any of us can. Now, I am going to bed. You will stay the way you are until you calm down, and when you both do, you will be released of the spell. Good night."

Hermione turned without giving them a second glance, and climbed the steep stairs up to the second floor. Turning left at the top, she walked to her favourite place in the world – her library. As she pushed open the heavy, mahogany doors, she felt a sense of ease envelop her. Hermione smiled softly, and went to sit in a comfortable ottoman by the window. The faint dusk of twilight glowed in all its magnificence, but Hermione could not find solace in it this time.

_Dear God, _she thought to herself. _How will I survive this? How can I survive seeing him again, which is bound to happen eventually, and not fall into his arms and..._

She dared not finish that thought. All the memories she had of him were long locked up in some dark corner of her brilliant mind, and she occasionally sought them when she needed comfort. It was a bittersweet experience, for every time she reached for the memory of that particular night, her heart would start to beat harder and faster, and it would be as if she finally existed again for more than a mere shadow of herself. The memory made her more alive than she ever was, and simultaneously it tore at her defences unforgiving and delicious in its agony.

Hermione saw the love in her daughter's eyes. She saw the fondness and passion that she recognized as her own, although she was powerless in face of the events after the War, and because of that, she had kissed goodbye her chance of** happiness. **It was not that she wasn't happy in a way; of course she was. She had two beautiful children, husband that loved her and great friends, but on top of all that, a piece of Hermione's heart always ached.

It ached for _him_.

Before she could succumb to the memory mild tapping of claws on the window startled her. Hermione turned to see a magnificent white eagle owl with a creamy envelope in its mouth.

_Oh God, oh God, oh God._

She stared at the owl for quite some time, her heart beating like marching drums. She knew whose it was - the elegance the bird exuded had _his_ signature all over it. The owl tapped on the window impatiently, and Hermione moved. With shaking hands, she opened the window and let the owl into her room - and if she was honest with herself, in a way she let _him_ back into her life.

The bird landed on a table, avoiding the manuscripts she was currently translating, careful not to make a mess. Hermione smiled to herself as she gently petted the proud bird, and untied the envelope from its wrist. The moment she did, the owl looked at her smartly, as if it knew what a torment all this was for her. It hooted twice, and then spread its large wings and flew away from the window, not looking back.

Slowly she turned the envelope in her hands; the paper was smooth and expensive-looking. On the backside in a beautiful writing, it said _Hermione Weasley, nee Granger._ She slowly ripped the paper, unknowingly holding her breath as she read the words written in black.

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_My son has recently informed me that he is, apparently, in love with your daughter. I assumed the lovely lady in question reciprocates his feelings - were that not the case, and being that she is her Mother's daughter, I believe my son would be lacking a limb, or at least, a finger._

_Given that Scorpius is, in fact, in one piece, I have concluded that the love he feels is matched by the passion I know that your daughter is capable of. Therefore, my family and I in particular would be honoured to have you and Mr. Weasley, and your lovely children join us for dinner on Friday at 6 o'clock._

_In __**anticipation**__ of receiving a positive response and seeing You,_

_Draco Malfoy_

A gentle sob wrecked her small frame, and she put a hand over her lips in order to prevent it from coming out. She turned to the door and fired a couple of spells at it, making sure no one would bother her as she fell apart.

Hermione fell down to the floor, clutching the letter to her heart, and as tears of wanton and regret spilled from her golden eyes, she inhaled the scent of lilacs coming from the paper. She allowed herself a moment of weakness as she remembered his lips and caresses all over her body on that night so many years ago. Tears fell on the black ink, blurring her vision and the words that told her so much about a man that held a fragment of her forever, and wished to herself that things in the past had played out differently.

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><p>After calming herself, Hermione cast a spell to mask her red-rimmed eyes and, with a deep breath, found herself knocking on Rose's door.<p>

A faint "come in" could be heard, and Hermione stepped inside.

"Hey," she spoke softly. "How are you?"

Rose shook her head.

"Angry. Disappointed. Tired. Hopeful. I don't know."

Hermione nodded and sat on the bed. Dark purple walls surrounding her were overflowing with photos, magical and Muggle. Her daughter was passionate about people she loved and things that made her smile, and her life was filled with **simplicity **only a happy child could have. Hermione felt proud of herself in that moment. She was proud of Harry, Ron, Neville, Ginny, and so many others that fought the battles that allowed her children to live a careless and joyful life. Now, facing what was the biggest battle in her life so far, Rosie was lost, and Hermione knew she had to give her guidance and support.

"Look, Rosie, I…"

Words were stuck in her throat as she considered how to tell her daughter to fight for the one she loves, and never to let him go. _How can I say anything to her, when I pushed away the one I loved? How can I advise her to follow her heart, when I was unwilling and unable to do so? _

"I… understand what is going through your head. I want to ask you one thing – do you love Scorpius?"

The way her daughter reacted to those words was delightful. Her face scrunched up in a fearless expression, her wide, blue eyes mirthful by mention of his name. It was as if her daughter was glowing from the inside as she looked at her mother and uttered the words in all seriousness.

"I am going to marry him one day Mom. I love him more than life itself, and I never want to be without him."

Hermione felt tears threatening to overcome her barriers again as she saw her child consumed with affection for a boy. She grew up so fast, and her little Rosie was now a woman, a beautiful, magnificent woman that was capable of endless love. Hermione lowered her head, and left a kiss on her daughter's forehead, closing her eyes and whispering.

"Then, my love, I will be there for you, every moment, because a boy that my daughter is so passionate about must be worth the world."

She felt Rose's sobs as her daughter held her close and cried like she did when she was just a baby, only these were not tears of pain – these were tears of relief.

* * *

><p>"But Hermione, I… I can not allow it. I will not allow my Rosie to go about with a… a… Malfoy!"<p>

He spat the last word as if it were a curse. Hermione threw an exasperated look towards the man she spent more than half of her life with, and decided that it was time she pulled out the big guns.

They were fighting again, probably the millionth time since she told him about the letter (that she burned 'accidentally' after her little breakdown in the library). He could not understand why she wanted to become reacquainted with Malfoy, and how could she possibly think that his offspring was good enough for Rose?

"Ronald Weasley, listen to me, and listen to me good. Your daughter is happy. No, shut up!" She yelled when Ron opened his mouth to say something, and closed them quickly when he realized his wife was not joking.

"Just look at her. Look at her Ron, and tell me that you do not see the love written on her face. Tell me you do not see the change. Tell me-" Hermione took a deep breath "-that you do not see the same look on her face that I have when I'm looking at you."

Ron smiled a little, but it turned into a frown.

"But… the **audacity** of the boy… who does he think he is, messing with my daughter?"

_He is Scorpius Malfoy, son of Lord Draco Malfoy, and he has the world at his feet. Moreover, he is in love with our daughter, and if he is his father's son, he would make her his queen. _

"Ron, please," Hermione begged, her voice exhausted. "Get over it already. We have all changed so much over the years, and even Harry says that Malfoy is a different man now. For Merlin's sake, I testified on his trial!"

The memory of the cold room and faces of the Wizengamot wizards was chilling, and Ron must have felt her unease because he hugged her close.

"I just… Hermione, I don't know. It's hard for me, she's growing up, and I can't bear the thought of losing her." His last words were but a whisper, and Hermione wound her fingers through his hair in a gesture of comfort and intimacy.

"Just… understand her. Give the boy a chance, and then we will see. For me, please?"

Her husband's eyes were filled with love as he promised her that he would try, and as they made their way to their bedroom, Hermione felt like she was cheating on someone – she just did not know whom.

* * *

><p>"We've been over this so many times Ronald - you need to behave. I know how you feel about Malfoy, but I believe it's time to put all the childish rivalry aside and concentrate on the happiness of your daughter."<p>

Ron Weasley grunted something in response, looking as if he was in physical pain in his wizard robes. They were currently sitting in the kitchen, waiting for their children to emerge from their rooms. The time on the clock was 5:37, and Hermione was determined not to be late. It took hours and hours of convincing, but Ron finally caved into going to the dinner with them. That did not mean he was happy about it, not at all. He did it for one reason only - he loved his daughter and his wife more than anything else in the world.

Hermione was feeling jittery, as she fiddled with her golden bracelet. Wearing a formal, Muggle dress the colour of glowing crimson, she felt beautiful and insecure at the same time. She shook her head, willing herself to push back all the distractions and determined not to give into the temptations that her mind conjured.

_Focus Hermione. Do not think about him, do not think about it. If you want to keep your wits about you, do not think about him._

Fluid steps alerted her to the presence of her two reasons for living - Rose and Hugo. She smiled as she caught a glimpse of her son, looking ruggedly handsome in his robes. His molten gold eyes held mischief and calm, undeniable intelligence behind them, the same one she saw every time she looked in a mirror. Her daughter, on the other hand, was anything but calm.

Rose's dress was silver and emerald, beautifully contrasted by her flaming hair that was held up by a silver clasp. It was the one that Hermione gave her for her eleventh birthday, and she chuckled at her daughters obvious attempts to appeal to the family of Slytherins. Hermione could see that Rose was nervous in the way she bit her lip, and the small twitch of her fingers. She took a step closer and embraced her daughter.

"You look beautiful darling," she whispered, as her daughter held her close. "He already loves you, and that's all that matters."

The **shock** was evident in her daughter's face as she pulled away, but before Rose could say anything, Ron mumbled that it was time to go. Hermione nodded and closed her eyes, removing the protection spells she put on their house, in order to allow them to Apparate. She could feel the magic coursing through her veins as she thought of _The Three D's._

The tugging in her abdomen made her sick, as it did so many times before. She landed on her feet, and as she looked up at the Malfoy Manor, she could not help the chills that ran down her spine. Memories from the War and the torture she endured there resurfaced, and her throat tightened. The letters hidden behind a powerful glamour charm burned her, and as she glanced down at her arm, Hermione could almost see the outlines of that damned word - Mudblood.

"Welcome, Mr. and Mrs Weasley. I'm so glad you've decided to come."

A rich voice brought Hermione out of her daze, and she looked at the young man that stole her daughter's heart.

_Oh Merlin, he looks just like him._

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy stood in front of her, casting sideway glances to her husband while looking charming in a formal tuxedo. His blonde hair was that particular Malfoy shade that everybody could recognize from a far, and his eyes were almost the same shade of iron that she remembered from so long ago. His face was aristocratic, his features noble, but his eyes held a roguishness appeal that his Father did not, and could not have in the lights of everything that transpired during the Second Wizarding War. Hermione knew in that instant why Rose chose to give him his heart, and she could never condemn her for it - _had she not done the same?_

The boy looked a bit lost, which Hermione would not be able to see had she not known his father's facial expressions like the back of her hand. Therefore, she stepped forward for her daughter's sake, and her own, and embraced the young man.

"It is very good to meet you Scorpius. Please, call me Hermione - Mrs. Weasley is my mother-in-law."

She felt him stiffen for an instant, but then he relaxed, and it was as if the weight he wore on his shoulders slackened a little. The hug was brief, but as Hermione pulled back, she could see her daughter looking at her as if she was her heroine. It made her nostalgic and a tad sad for a moment, for it has been years since her children looked at her like she could do no wrong in this world.

Ron chose that moment to clear his throat, and he honestly looked constipated as he pushed his hand forward for Scorpius to shake. Young man accepted it gladly, relief prominent on his face.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Weasley, and thank you so much for coming."

Ron grunted a response, and Hermione almost rolled her eyes. Hugo then stepped forward and did that manly-hug thing that boys did with Scorpius. Both Ron and Hermione were surprized to see their younger son, who was extremely dainty when it came to choosing his friends and acquaintances, so at ease with the tall Slytherin. Hugo was a great judge of character and from the smiles that the boys shared and a couple of teasing words, Hermione felt even more at ease with her daughter's choice.

"My parents are waiting for you inside - my Father had a last minute disaster with the dessert and I believe he is trying to fix it."

Scorpius smiled at Hermione and with a move of his hand ushered them to go inside. As the children stood in front of them, Hermione could see how Scorpius looked at Rose from the corner of his eye, and his fingers twitched like he needed to touch her. Rose on the other hand gravitated towards Scorpius, seemingly unable to resist the pull she felt. The **longing** in her daughter's eyes was hard to miss, so Hermione took her husband's hand in hers and pulled him towards the entrance of the Malfoy Manor.

Hugo must have noticed what was going on, because he caught up with them and engaged his father in a brief conversation over the latest Quidditch news he had read before they came here. Hermione chose that moment to glance behind her, and what she saw made her heart swell and break a little at the same time.

Scorpius held Rose in his embrace, whispering soft words in her ear with his arms circling her waist. Rose wore an enchanting smile, and as they stood there, amidst the stolen juncture in space and time, Hermione knew that her daughter is safe; safe with a man that would make sure she had the world and then some.

* * *

><p>The person waiting for them as they came in was the Mistress of Malfoy Manor - Astoria Malfoy.<p>

She was a beautiful woman, with delicate features and nervous eyes. She shook Ron's and Hermione's hand, greeted Hugo warmly, and asked for the whereabouts of her son and Rose, all the while insisting they called her Astoria. Her voice was a high soprano, like chiming of the bells on Christmas, and Hermione had to push down all her insecurities and the green monster of envy, and not think about the fact this was the woman that shared _his_ bed every night. She was, after all, here with her husband, who looked like he was in his own, personal hell.

Hermione's heart gave a tug at that moment, and she took her husband's hand and smiled at Astoria.

"The children are in the garden - I believe they haven't seen each other for a long time, so we decided to give them a moment. And please, call me Hermione."

Astoria smiled knowingly, and thought to herself that she quite liked this witch in ruby coloured dress in front of her.

"Yes, well, my husband _insisted _on making the dessert himself - I believe his love for cooking came from his enthusiasm with Potions. Of course, there was a slight complication, but I believe he will join us in a couple of minutes."

Rose and Scorpius chose that moment to enter, with her blushing profusely as he held her hand on his elbow. They came to a halt in front of Astoria, and Rose paled a little.

"Mother, this is my Rose."

Hermione could have swooned over the charms of one Scorpius Malfoy at that moment, and it seemed that his mother was not immune to it either.

"Hello Mrs. Malfoy, thank you for inviting us into your lovely home." Rose's voice could barely be heard, as the spitfire that was her daughter tried her best not to show how nervous she was, meeting her boyfriend's mother.

"Hello Rose, dear! Oh Merlin, you look so glamorous- that shade suits you perfectly! Please, do call me Astoria - Mrs. Malfoy is my mother-in-law."

Scorpius' head turned as his Mother embraced confused Rose, and he looked at the woman that gave birth to the love of his life. Mrs. Hermione had told him exactly the same thing couple of minutes before. Scorpius could feel when the wheels in his head started to turn. He still remembered the strange way his Father reacted when he told him about Rose, and something was bothering him in the back of his mind.

He saw his Father approaching them from the kitchens, and he caught a glimpse of Mrs. Hermione. His eyes widened at the odd display in front of him.

"I am so sorry for the delay, I could not get the chocolate topping right. Binky barely salvaged me from a cocoa explosion I made in the kitchen."

Hermione thought she was going to die.

_Oh God oh God oh God._

It was as if someone grabbed her and whisked her in the air, forcing the breath out of her lungs violently, and then released her to fall thunderously on the ground. Hermione turned stiffly towards the sound of the angel's voice and looked at Draco Malfoy, and their eyes found each other.

It was heaven and hell and coming home and **heartache** and rumble of pain and bliss. His eyes roamed over her, and she found herself unable to produce a sound as her blood pumped furiously and all the sounds perished.

_He was there._

He was really there, in front of her, not just a fragment of her imagination from the long lost memory she once had, and he was looking at her with those eyes of luminous silver that looked at her with love on the night she gave herself to him.

_No._

She could not think about it.

_No._

She _would_ not think about it.

_Oh God._

He said something to her, and she instinctively pushed her hand forward expecting a handshake. What she got was the feel of his heavenly lips on the back of her hand, and she froze and she burned and melted as she forgot how to breathe. It could have lasted a second or an eon, she did not know, but then his eyes left her at once as he spoke to her husband and shook his hand. She forced herself to breathe and apparently switched the autopilot on, for she was unable to concentrate anymore. Hermione's head hurt as he smiled at Rose, complimenting her on something or other, for she thought she could cry. She tried to compose herself enough to function when he laughed at something Hugo said to him and Scorpius.

_Oh God oh please, please, I can't breathe._

Hermione was not a religious person, but right then and there she was prepared to make a deal with any deity there might be just to transport her somewhere else, anywhere else in this world. She smiled automatically as Scorpius told her something; she nodded at her husband in reassurance and comfort when he sought her because he was uncomfortable. She avoided looking at him as Astoria announced that the dinner was ready and took Ron's hand.

Were Hermione on top of her game, she would have noticed how Scorpius kept his eyes upon her and his Father the whole time, and she would have caught the way he made his **intentional** falter look like an accident. The boy was however quickly distracted by Rose's hand and her playful, promising look, and he hurried after her, hoping for another kiss before the dinner. Everybody made their way to the dining room, and Hermione was left with Draco alone.

She finally gathered the courage to look at him again, and it made her want to weep.

He was hauntingly beautiful, that man who would always stay an **enigma** to her, mysterious and peculiar and oh so familiar.

Draco Malfoy smiled softly at the woman that he belonged to since that stolen moment another eternity ago, and her proximity and her warmness awoke him.

He took a step closer, his hand seeking hers, and she submitted willingly, as she did before. Hermione knew that she would give him anything she asked of her, but all Draco did was capture her eyes with his own. His smell enveloped her, and she realized in that moment how much she missed him. It had been centuries since she was this close to him, and they had lived through so much since, and he may not be the same person anymore, but Hermione did not care, for she felt things she had not felt in years.

She shuddered with yearning as his breath danced on her throat, and the words he sighed into her skin made her head spin.

"I missed you."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Soooo... any thoughts? :)<strong>


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